The Place Where It All Started
by throughthedarkersideofthings
Summary: Extreme AU with powerful!fem!Harry. Torture, major/minor character death. Seventh year fic. / When Imogene Clocker comes back to Hogwarts, not even Snape recognises her as the Girl-Who-Lived, but with little prodding, her friends do. She has come back to settle the score and to finish the task Dumbledore set out for her, and she and Dumbledore's Army have a lot of work to do...
1. Power

**Warnings for: Major/minor character death, extreme cannon divergence, torture, bad language, sexual situations, possibly more to come. **

**If you recognise the first chapter of this story, that's because a similar story was published awhile ago under the same name with a few differences, but the first chapters were very alike. My best friend wrote that story years ago and abandoned it, but gave me permission to use the first chapter as a a springboard for this story.**

**This is a AU story with powerful!fem!Harry; I'm going to be publishing the story of first years of her life at Hogwarts on here shortly, but you don't need to read either to understand the other. This is a stand-alone. Also, every character mentioned on here that you don't recognise is a character who was movie-only, such as Kellah Spinks, who had a non-speaking role in the first three movies. **

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**Chapter 1: Power**

"You are late." Snape said coldly as he circled around me.

"I'm sorry Headmaster, but my family was in Scotland for the first couple weeks of school on holiday. My mother didn't see the decree until a few days ago."

I watched him pace slowly around me out of guarded eyes, refusing to show any of the hate I felt for him on my face. I could hear a low murmur of voices coming from the Great Hall from the place where I stood just inside the entrance hall. It wasn't nearly as loud as it should have been, which told me two things: One, many children were missing – dead or just in hiding; there was no way of knowing for many of them. Two, they were being very strict with the children left, possibly only letting them talk in whispers.

"Miss Clocker, Hogwarts no longer tolerates lateness. Things have changed since that old fool was in charge." Snape sneered, his greasy black hair barely stirring as he moved.

"I understand that now, Sir. It won't happen again." I forced a smile on my completely different face, sure he couldn't tell who I was. I was good, after all, and my research had been flawless; I didn't look like myself at all, and even my wand looked different. None of the changes were anything that could be undone by a spell, however. I wasn't stupid.

"You will be sorted tonight, at dinner, in front of the whole school."

He sneered, but his face slowly fell as he saw no change in my expression. I had seen and done much worse than having to stand in front of a couple hundred children and put a bloody hat on.

"Come." He ordered. I followed him, even though I could have easily walked their blindfolded.

We entered the Great Hall and everything went quiet. In the past, I would have blushed when stared at like this, but that past seemed more distant every day. My shoulders were straight, my back erect, my face carefully blank, and my mind sealed. I took in all their faces – so many of them were people I loved, people I had missed beyond reason. None of them had any idea who I was, however. At least not yet.

Everyone in the room was looking at me. It hadn't been often, even when Dumbledore was Headmaster, for a student to arrive several weeks into the year. There were only three people I really paid attention to, though: Kellah Spinks, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom, my first and closest friends in the wizarding world. I had missed them all so much to was physically painfully.

Luna was always a delightful constant. Her dreamy eyes smiled at me from the Ravenclaw table, and I wouldn't have put it past her to already have guessed who I really was. As always, her long light blonde hair was slightly messy, her wand tucked behind her left ear. Her gray eyes were guarded but optimistic, but her usually perfect pale skin was marred by a wand scorch on her right cheek. She was tucked between Terry Boot and Michael Corner, the fifth and sixth people I had met in this world, and my other closest friends. Terry's hair was still long, pulled back into a ponytail, and his blue eyes shone as if he was angry with someone. Michael's almost irritatingly handsome face was drawn into a hard expression, his brown hair mussed slightly and eyes hard. They both leant into Luna as if trying to protect her from something – perhaps the wand scorches had been recent?

Kellah, over at the Gryffindor table, looked the same from the outside, with only the hardness of her eyes to say that hard times had passed and she was preparing for more in the future. Her thick black hair was in cornrows, like it had been the day I first met her, and her dark skin was scarred slightly around her right jaw from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries two years ago. She and Neville were sitting next to each other, Ginny Weasley and Parvati Patil across the table from them – and oh, how different everyone looked – all harder and older and wearier, yet defiant and determined and wise. However, the most dramatic transformation was probably Neville's.

His hair was shorter, messy, thankfully not in that god-awful haircut he had had last year. He didn't look down any longer; his head was held up high and proud, like it should have always been. His brown eyes held the light of determination in them, and his face was smaller now, all the residual baby fat gone; he had chiselled cheekbones and a strong chin, all having been hidden away for years except to the determined observer. His shoulders were broad now that he wasn't hunched over, and they held the stance of a leader. A second later, I caught a look in his eyes as he glanced over at me, a familiar look – the one that was always in mine. It spoke of power.

It wasn't the power of someone like Merlin or even Dumbledore – or Godric forbid, Voldemort – it was a power that I had held in my hands since fifth year – or even first year, if I was being honest with myself – a power that I was glad to see Neville had now taken. It told me that they had not given up on me, that they were still fighting and still had hope.

That power was something Voldemort would never have. It was the power of saying one word, and having an army at your back. Many people would do nearly anything for Voldemort, yes, but few of them were so determined in their cause that they would run to help him, die to help him, not because it was orders, but because they loved him. Oh, perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange loved Voldemort, but the rest were purely scared, devoted, respectful, or something of the sort. That was why we had the advantage, people like Neville and I – or I once did, at least.

"This young lady it seems thinks that just because her family was out of the country for a while, she can get away with not attending school on time. Her punishment will be dealt with later, but for now, Miss Imogen Clocker shall be sorted."

Snape scowled at the name, but I couldn't have been more proud of my choices. I knew Snape was waiting for me to show fear at his punishment statement, but I was not afraid of him, his pet Death Eater 'teachers', or the Cruciatus Curse. Snape popped the hat on my head, and I stood straight-backed with my hands crossed behind me, waiting.

_Back again eh Miss Potter? How very interesting…_

**_You can't say a thing! Got it? Everything, every life depends on this! This has to work! Nothing can go wrong!_**

_Yes, Miss Potter, I realize that. Quite an interesting story you have formed for yourself…Ah, Imogen Eloise Clocker now, is it? Well, I can say that you surely have a way with names. May I ask who they are after?_

**_You could easily see that, if you wanted to. _**

_I could, couldn't I?_

**_But you're not going to, are you?_**

_No._

**_Imogen Clearwater. Eloise Jordan. Annabel Clocker, nee Vance. Understand now?_**

_Yes, I do. Annabel was a lovely girl. Wonderful family. Sweet Eloise, the brilliant Ravenclaw – and little Imogen Clearwater; I never got the pleasure…Please do save the world quickly; I don't like these staff changes…_

**_Only you could brush that off like that. _**

But instead of answering my remark, the hat opened its makeshift mouth, and shouted the words I had heard once before in this position.

"GRYFFINDOR!"


	2. Dead Men Rise Up Never

**Chapter 2: Dead Men Rise Up Never**

The Gryffindor table clapped slowly and softly – no, this was not like them at all. _Perhaps they are just confused by my lateness,_ I tried to convince myself.

I nearly kissed the person nearest to me when I saw that there was an empty spot next to Neville, between him and Seamus – the perfect excuse. Now I could sit with my friends without making Snape suspicious by having to show people out of the way.

I sat down casually, hearing half-hearted mumbles of welcome from around the table and nodding politely. It was all I could do not to completely smother them all in hugs; only about five people at the table were strangers to me, besides the First Years, and they were probably all former homeschoolers.

Seamus was next to me on my left side a few feet down, looking rather worse for wear, with huge bruises on his face and a still-healing lip. I could hear Kellah whispering something to Neville, and her voice made me remember the time we had written rude Christmas songs about Snape during Third Year, which she would later sing to me when I had nightmares and woke up screaming. Neville, oh Merlin, Neville even _smelled_ amazing; like soil and plants and Butterbeer and the soft scent of a vaguely recognised cologne.

I tried to tune this out, trying to ignore all my friends being so close by and nearly looking through me, and listen to Snape's speech…

"Now that that little interruption is over," he sneered, standing before the staff table as if he had a right to be there – as if he were _him_. "I'll just finish our day's announcements, the last of which being that Educational Decrees numbers Nine, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, and Thirty have been reinstated." There were muffled groans from the students, but Snape snapped, "Silence!" and it was quiet.

Slowly Snape walked back to his seat – no, _Dumbledore's_ seat. My hands clinched on the table. As soon as Snape hit the chair, food appeared on the tables.

This, at least, had not changed. I felt tears in my eyes just looking at the platters of food. Everyone's mood seemed to improve dramatically, and they all began chattering loudly – though still not loudly enough.

I grabbed everything I needed to create a traditional English dinner – I had been away for too long. Yorkshire pudding, steak and kidney pie, Sheppard's pie, Brussels sprouts, chicken, fish, and chips. I made certain not to get any peas, because the way I ate them would surely clue someone in, and unless it was Kellah or Neville or perhaps Parvati, something bad could happen. You never knew who might suddenly jump up and scream my name, and that would be it. No, I had to be very careful.

I ate as slowly as I could, just listening to them all. So many had died already in this war. To see any of them alive was like cool water on a burn – soothing, but with a sting that couldn't be ignored just beneath the surface. I took in Kellah and Neville's pointless conversation about Fainting Ficus eagerly. Just hearing their voices, sitting by them, was amazing.

But I wasn't going to keep this secret from them. They, Luna, Terry, and Michael would all know by this time next day. I trusted them with this easily, it was just a matter of getting the message through to them very subtlety.

Soon, desert appeared. I ignored the treacle tarts I wanted so badly and grabbed some sticky toffee pudding, cauldron cakes, and pumpkin pasties. Fruit had appeared as it always did with desert. This was my chance.

I waited until Neville and Kellah paused in their conversation, then reached towards the bowl of grapes by Neville's arm.

"Oh, green grapes." I said cheerfully. "I wonder if there are any pomegranates around…"

I heard Neville stifle a gasp, his body suddenly rigid, though he kept his eyes trained on his food for a moment until he was composed. Then, slowly, he turned towards me. His eyes held none of the indifference they had the last time he glanced at me; now, they were wide and excited, but at the same time afraid.

Slowly, slowly he repeated the next part of our code.

"I – I am weary of…days and hours…"

I smiled faintly at him, knowing this next line would be the deciding factor in whether I stayed at Hogwarts this year or made a run for it right now.

"Even the weariest river runs somewhere safe to sea."

Neville covered a sob with a loud cough, subtly drying his eyes while he coughed into his napkin for nearly a minute. Kellah hadn't heard our exchange, having been comforting a homesick First-Year on her other side, and patted him on the back gingerly.

Neville and I had invented this code in forth year; it was based off a poem we both loved called The Garden of Proserprine. Proserprine is another name for Persephone, the Greek goddess who married Hades, and contains both of the lines we spoke and a reference to green grapes. As Neville lowered his napkin and took a long drink of water before stuffing food in his mouth quickly, as if to make up for lost time, I saw him smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks, and then I realised it wasn't him smiling that I was feeling (of course); it was my own smile. I had forgotten what it felt like.

Neville nodded in Kellah's direction, and I saw his hands forming the _I understand/We need to talk about this later_ gesture under the table; right thumb resting sideways on the left thumb and rubbing back and forth.

I turned back to my desert, contemplating how to tell Kellah, Luna, Terry, and Michael even as my face ached with the force of my smile.

This was already shaping up to be an interesting year.


End file.
